Found
by Cerdwyn
Summary: Amy is entering her fourth year at Hogwarts; an important year, and a dangerous year. Everyone else thinks Harry being entered in the Triwizard Tournament is fantastic, but Amy thinks it's a trap. Dismissed as paranoid, her fears swell as the year progresses darker and darker. How long can her secret stay hidden when the Dark Lord is steadily regaining his powers?
1. Chapter 1: The Quidditch World Cup

**Book 4**

**Chapter 1**

They were plotting again, but I guess, what else did evil wizards do in the summer holidays? They were plotting, and so they sent me to the Malfoys' for the summer. The Malfoys', however were going out for the summer, and therefore took me along. If I weren't terrified that my brother and friends would find out anything—anything _more—_about my life outside Hogwarts, I would have sent them an owl immediately.

I was going to the_ Quidditch World Cup_! The World Cup!

So, normally Quidditch isn't my thing, but this was a big thing, and Draco's excitement was not only palpable—it was infectious.

So that's how Draco and I were walking through a forest, along a lantern-lit trail, towards a huge golden stadium. Up ahead, his parents were walking sedately, and all around us we could hear the sounds of hundreds—if not _thousands_ of other witches and wizards talking excitedly. Draco was grinning so exuberantly I couldn't resist a smile myself. He was like an excited little boy, which I guess wasn't such a bad description.

Spark decided he didn't like it, and stayed back at the Malfoy manor. Doing dragon-lizard-y things, I guessed. He'd seemed distant lately, I must remember to look up more about dragon-lizard growing processes, and when they left the nest, or whatever happened.

As the edge of the forest came into sight, Draco caught my hand, squeezing it slightly and interrupting my thoughts. Surprised, I almost dropped it, but thought better of it.

"Evening, Lucius." The Ministry witch at the entrance greeted Mr. Malfoy, giving us our position for seating. "Straight upstairs, to the Top Box!"

The stairs were carpeted richly, and there were several doors per level, which others filtered out of, leaving us climbing the staircase relatively alone. Reaching the top; the box had a marvelous view over the entire pitch, exactly halfway and almost eye-level with the 50-foot high golden hoops. Opposite the box was a huge billboard, which was displaying advertisements.

"... ah, and here's Lucius!" the man from the hospital wing at the end of last year was saying. I looked around the box for the first time; there were approximately twenty purple and gold gilt chairs, a few of which were already filled. At the front of the box there were seven unmistakable red heads (even though I'd only ever met four of them), a distinctive head full of bushy, brown hair, and a head with black spiky hair, not dissimilar to my own. _Now _I dropped Draco's hand, self consciously taking a step back as not to be seen. Not that is really worked, in such a confined and brightly lit space. As one, Harry, Ron and Hermione turned around, looking at Fudge, who was shaking Mr. Malfoys hand, then his wife, then Draco … and me …

Harry and Ron's eyes widened predictably, but Hermione's narrowed. I could swear her eyes travelled to my arm, my left, marked arm; covered by the long sleeve of my shirt.

"Ah, Fudge." Mr Malfoy said, holding out his hand. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco? This is his friend, Amy."

I blushed, trying to look anywhere but at my brother and his friends, and now the entire Weasley family, which was watching me.

The whole match was like this. Having come for Draco, I couldn't tell you what happened, other than the green team seemed pretty happy, though the other guy caught the ball. The really small one. Way over my head. I spent it staring intently at the pitch. Or the floor. Avoiding the occasional glance that Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys sent me. When it was over I was relieved, being swooshed out the top box along with the Malfoy family, back down to where we were staying in a huge luxury tent. Well, tent being more technical than descriptive. Having money, the Malfoys tent looked nothing like a tent, instead appearing to be quite like a mansion inside, coming with five bedrooms (though we were using only three), which two of had ensuites. Plus a bathroom, and a large dining, though no kitchen was immediately apparent. And we were only here for one night? Two nights? I wasn't sure about this, either.

Sitting on my bed, I fiddled with the down comforter spread smoothing out the emerald fabric. There was a slight knock on my door, before Draco entered, still grinning widely, excited for the already-passed match. I smiled back, and his faltered a bit.

"Funny seeing Potter, and the Weasleys in the most expensive seats, don't you think?" his smile slid into a smirk at the thought of that. "Wonder what they sold. Or do you reckon Potter shouted them?"

I kept my mouth shut, I knew Ron wouldn't accept Harry's charity, but wasn't going to rise to the bait. Even at a time like now, he couldn't resist taunting them. I sighed a tad at this, and he dropped down next to me, bouncing me a bit on the mattress.

"That was cool though, wasn't it?" his grin came back, and I managed to summon one equally bright, nodding enthusiastically for him.

"It's late, isn't it?" I hinted, not wanting him to stay forever talking. Seeing my brother and friends made Draco a harsh reminder of my less-than-perfect life.

"Not too late, though." Draco agreed, ignoring my silent plea. "Besides, father hasn't gone to bed yet."

His sentence was followed with a scream, coming from outside.


	2. Chapter 2: Revelations

**A/N: Hey guys, guys, guess what!**

**I got a Mac for Christmas.**

**So... hopefully that means more writing for you all! =D although, beginning tertiary next year may impact that again. Anyway, I have waded my way through 3 whole books, and present to you the fourth! Hopefully, this shouldn't be as long in production, as this was the one my ideas began with. This be the most planned one. On with the story!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters (except Amy), or something like 90% of the plot. All credit to the lovely Mrs. Rowling.**

* * *

"Miss! Miss!" a harried-looking house elf ran into the room. "And young master Draco!" she made a tsk-tsking noise. "You needs to leave, there's bad things happening!"

"Bad things?" I stood from the bed, still clutching my wand.

"Yes, yes, there's bad things' happening! Bad people, outside with fire and wands! You need to leave, to go to the forest until they all go away! Rosy is to tell you to go the forest!"

"Alright, alright," I shushed the house elf, shooing her out of the room. To my surprise, Draco didn't look that panicked. He sighed actually, standing.

"I guess we better get a move on then, hadn't we?" he said, grabbing my hand again, and leading outside of the mansion-tent. Out on the field, it was chaos. People were running in every which direction, tents were burning and a crowd or masked and robed wizards were marching through the grounds, jeering and trampling tents. Above them floated a family of humans – muggles, I assumed. They were spinning and taunting them, had children even, crying in the air. Draco tugged my hand, leading me towards the forest, quite calmly. Turning away from the wizards in the masks, I faced him, hurrying as to not get left behind.

Quite confidently, Draco led us to the forest, and thankfully, I slipped into its shadows, the leaves dampening the screaming of the people and the roaring of the flames behind us. Slowing our pace, we walked further into the forest so that we couldn't see the campground. Draco leant against a tree, and exhausted I slid to the ground, nervously rubbing my wand.

Nearby, there was a cry of pain, and then familiar voices. Once again.

"What happened?" said Hermione's voice came anxiously. "Ron, where are you? Lumos!"

Nearby, a path was illuminated, and Harry and Hermione appeared in it's light; Ron lying sprawled on the ground near them.

"Tripped over a tree root." Ron said, getting up and dusting himself off.

"With feet that size, it'd be hard not to." Draco remarked snidely. Of course he just wouldn't keep his mouth shut. The three on the path turned towards us, glaring at Draco, before spotting me.

"Go fuck a squid, Malfoy." Ron snarled.

"Language, Weasley." Draco admonished. "Hadn't you better hurry along now? Wouldn't want _her_ spotted, would you?" He nodded at Hermione. A boom sounded in the distance, and a flash further illuminated the clearing, before fading rapidly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione's cheeks turned slightly pink.

"Granger," Draco began with exaggerated slowness, "they're after muggles. D'you want to be showing off your knickers in mid air? Hang around, they're heading this way, and you'll be next. Then again, I suppose Potter and Weasley have already been there."

"Hermione's a witch." Harry snarled, wisely ignoring Draco's second crack. Ron, however, was turning red with fury.

"Have it your own way then. If you think they can't spot a mudblood when they see one, stay where you are."

"You watch your mouth!" Ron went a deeper red, and I thought he might explode any moment. I stood warily, ready to grab Draco.

"Never mind, Ron," said Hermione quickly, grabbing Ron's arm as he took a step toward Draco. There came another bang and several people nearby screamed.

Draco chuckled softly. "Scare easily, don't they?" he said lazily. "I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? Is he trying to rescue the Muggles?"

"Where're your parents?" said Harry. "Out there wearing masks, are they?"

Draco turned to Harry, still smiling. "Well… if they were, I wouldn't tell you, would I, Potter?"

"Oh come on," said Hermione, shooting a disgusted look at my companion. "Let's go and find the others."

"Keep that bushy head down, Granger," Draco called after the trio as she pulled Harry and Ron up the path, taking the light with her.

I turned to face Draco. "Do you always have to start fights with them?" I asked. I was too tired to be angry, as much as I wanted to be. "Why hate my brother, but not me?"

He looked at me with a slight smirk. "Why do I hate him? He was rude to me in first year, if you recall. He associates with the wrong crowd, too. Although his, and your, mother was a mud– was muggle born, both his parents being magical gives him some small right to pureblood. Unlike Granger, who's a mudblood through and through, and others who are merely half-blood. Weasley, even, is a pureblood line, but have forever been muggle supporters. We are so far above muggles, so why stoop to assist them, research them, _breed_ with them, even.

"As I'm sure you know, it's not just Potter, and his friends. It's not any non-Slytherin, either. We're _better_ than muggles, who're confined to things like electrickery, or whatever it's called. So why sully ourselves with them? It has long been an opinion of my family that mudbloods and half bloods should not be allowed in wizarding schools. Those with muggle relationships are a disgrace to the society. Your brother, having such links with muggles puts him beneath myself." He paused, turning a smile on me, even as I felt like I'd been hit in the stomach with a bludger.

"You, my dear, are different. Even though you are related to Potter, you–"

He was cut off by nearby screams, and several shouts, as green light flooded the clearing, and my left arm burned, causing me to bit back a cry of pain. Above us, slightly further into the forest, the Mark on my arm filled the sky. _His_ Mark, at the Quidditch World Cup.


	3. Chapter 3: The Hogwarts Express

The news was everywhere after that. As much as the Ministry tried to supress the panic, and smooth over the disaster of the Quidditch World Cup, the Daily Prophet had it front page for at least a week. I sighed and threw the newspaper onto the empty seat next to mine, looking up at Draco who was telling Blaise Zabini _everything_ that had happened over the holidays. Unfortunately – or luckily, I guess, his parents had decided on a family vacation over the summer, and Blaise wasn't able to go to the World Cup.

" – and then father was telling me about how the Ministry is hoping to regain face with the events at Hogwarts this year. Such a mess at the World Cup, Ludo Bagman has to prove he can do _something_ right."

"Events at Hogwarts?" I jumped into the conversation, looking between the two boys. "What events?"

Draco looked slightly surprised, but Blaise looked smug.

"If you don't know, little Gryffindor, then it can remain a surprise." Blaise said teasingly.

"Didn't you hear that conversation?" Draco seemed surprised. I shook my head, and the boys grinned at each other. "Indeed then, it will be a surprise."

I snorted, sitting back in my seat and watching them continue their speculations, throwing glances at me as to see if I was going to take the bait. Refusing, I pulled out my Care of Magical Creatures books – the standard book _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ and the _Monster Book of Monsters_ from the previous year. I didn't think either of them would have much about dragon-lizards, being an 'extinct' series, but one can only hope. The dragon-lizard in question was napping on the top of Draco's owls' cage. I never got many of his pearls of wisdom anymore. He was either napping, or off doing … dragon-lizard-y stuff … the stuff that I was currently hoping to find out.

The _Monster Book of Monsters_ had nothing, except to comment that the dragon-lizard is a smaller cousin of the dragon, and similarly, come in many varieties of dragon. As I discovered, Spark was a distant cousin to the Chinese Fireball. However, this told me nothing about behaviour. Perhaps as a last resort, I could look up dragon behaviour, or ask Hagrid.

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ had much the same, drawing similarities between the dragon-lizards and their larger cousins. All in all, nothing specific to my lizardy friend. Rather, all about his cousins. Looking out the window, I saw others starting to walk by in their robes, and stood with a sigh.

"I'm going to change into my robes." I announced, grabbing my pack and heading out of the cabin.

Shortly afterwards, we were pelting through the pouring rain towards the carriages that were pulled by the skeletal horses. Thestrals I heard they were called. Soaking wet, Draco, Blaise and I slipped into a carriage. Draco grinned, his hair hanging lankly across his forehead. Obviously, he looked me once over, grin widening.

"Wet suits you, Amy. Shame you don't wear white more often, isn't it?" he taunted, and I blushed. Blaise smirked on the other seat, eyes dancing.

"Yea, with such a great body, you should show it off more." He winked at me.

I threw myself back into the seat.

"Boys." I muttered to myself, resting my head in my hands.

'_I couldn't agree more.'_ Spark chimed in, his tone amused. _'With them, of course.'_

I sighed. Boys indeed.


	4. Chapter 4: The Triwizard Tournament

**A/N: Hmm, a lot of Dumbledore talking, but here we have Amy's initial reservations about the Tournament.**

**Boom, many chapters over few days =D recently I've been left home alone a lot (not even at my own house), so what do I do but write? As February starts, this may or may not slow down as I get busy with things. But no more school, at least!**

**Chapter Four**

After sliding our way across the Entrance Hall, which was covered in water by the time we reached it, we made our way into the Great Hall, bedecked for the start-of-term feast. I left the others, making my way to the Gryffindor table on the far side of the Hall. Warily, I sat near Harry, Ron and Hermione, who hesitated before smiling at me. Like I'd hoped, they didn't blame me for being with Draco. It wasn't as if I had a choice, after all.

"Hope they hurry up with the Sorting. I'm starving!" Harry remarked before his attention was stolen by a third year.

"Who's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Hermione remarked after a bit. Looking up at the teachers' table, I saw there was three seats empty: Hagrid's, Professor McGonagall's and presumably, the new DADA teacher's.

"Maybe they couldn't get anyone!" Hermione continued worriedly. "Would that mean more elective classes? I wouldn't try anything like last year again, of course," her and Harry looked at each other amusedly, "but taking another subject would be good. But of course, Defence Against the Dark Arts is really important. Though –"

Thankfully she was cut off by the arrival of Hagrid and the new first year students, one of which looked like he'd try to _swim_ across the lake, and was wrapped in Hagrid's huge coat.

"Hurry up." Ron muttered. "I could eat a Hippogriff."

Silence fully fell, as the Sorting Hat opened its mouth, and sung.

When it had finished, the Hall rang with applause, and Professor McGonagall gave out the instructions.

"Ackerly, Stewart!" was the first, and he shortly became a Ravenclaw. I watched with disinterest, though it seems Gryffindor got a small amount of new students, with Slytherin and Ravenclaw getting the most.

Finally, Professor Dumbledore stood, and Ron seized his knife and fork, looking up expectantly.

"I have only two words to say to you, Professor Dumbledore smiled around the Hall. "Tuck in."

The spotless plates before us filled with food, and I smiled to myself before helping myself to a large portion, (by my standards, anyway, compared to Ron and Harry's plates, I was eating a snack still). And the same with dessert, though, Hermione refused to touch any of it, for some reason.

Once the plates were entirely cleared, Dumbledore stood again.

"Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it.

As ever, I would like to remind you that the Forbidden Forest is _forbidden_ and that Hogsmeade village is out of bounds to students under third year." Professor Dumbledore looked around the four tables. "It is also my regretful duty to inform you that the Inter-house Quidditch Cup will not be taking place this year." He paused again, as outraged cries went up, including from my brother and the Weasley twins, who were all part of the Gryffindor house team.

"This is due to another event starting in October, that will consume much time and energy from the staff, yet being an event I'm sure you all will enjoy immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that –"

Dumbledore was interrupted by the loud 'bang' of the Hall doors being thrust open. A man stood in the doorway, leaning heavily on a large staff. He shook out his grizzled grey hair, and began walking towards the teachers' table. On every other step, a loud 'clunk' resounded in the silent Hall. Lightning flashed, and his face was revealed. A collective gasp rang out, for his face was heavily scarred, his nose was missing a large chunk, and he only had one eye. One normal eye.

The other eye was round, and electric blue, a stark contrast to the rest of his dark appearance. It didn't blink, was moving constantly, and even flipped back into the man's head, so all we could see was the whiteness.

The stranger reached the Head table, and shook hands with Professor Dumbledore, the two talking quietly between themselves. The Headmaster directed him to an empty seat on his right, which the stranger took, and began eating a plate of sausages, sniffing them suspiciously.

"I present to you the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher." Professor Dumbledore announced shockingly loud after the silence. "Professor Moody."

The Headmaster and Hagrid applauded, as is customary, the students sitting silently, in shock. The applause faltered, before dying completely.

"Moody?" Harry muttered to Ron. "Mad Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?"

"Must be." Ron muttered back, staring at the new teacher.

The electric blue eye found Harry's face, then mine. It dropped slightly, and I could almost feel him looking at my arm, at the Mark hidden beneath my robes, and the long sleeved shirt I wore, despite it being summer. Consciously, I pulled the Mark closer, away from the mans' gaze.

"As I was saying." Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat, smiling again at the students. "We are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" Fred Weasley said loudly into the silence.

"I am not joking, Mr Weasley." Professor Dumbledore smiled at the Gryffindor table, eyes twinkling over his half moon glasses. "Now, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope that those of you who do will forgive me for giving a short explanation. I invite you to let your attention wander freely.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Death toll?" A murmur went through each of the tables, and Hermione frowned. Though that murmur of apprehension soon turned to one of excitement. Several students, it seemed, were more interested in the tasks than people who died hundreds of years ago.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to resume the tournament," Dumbledore continued, interrupting the whispers. "None of which being very successful. However, the Ministry has decided to have another attempt. We have worked to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. A neutral judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons prize money." Once again, whispers erupted around the tables, an excited glow hanging over the tables.

"Eager though I know you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration." Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had began talking angrily at this. "This is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will be difficult and dangerous. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student fools our impartial judge." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred and George's furious faces.

"Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Goodnight!" Professor Dumbledore resumed his seat, leaning over to talk to Professor Moody.

'_The Triwizard Tournament, hmm?_' I thought to myself, with a sinking feeling in my stomach. '_Highly dangerous and difficult tasks…_' I looked at Harry, and a cold knot of fear formed in my heart.


	5. Chapter 5: Crucio!

**Sorry people, it's been a while, I know. Thanks to modhem, for the message that made me finally kick myself into writing for all you lovely people! Here we go, please review. Cookies for all :)**

By the next morning the storm had blown itself out, and the sky overhead in the great hall was merely gloomy. Several students reflected this mood – undoubtedly disappointed of Professor Dumbledore's age restriction for the Triwizard Tournament. I couldn't reflect the weather, however, despite the cold knot of fear buried deep by the nights sleep; I was back at Hogwarts, at my home that came without the Malfoys family, or the Dark Lord. Here, I didn't have to worry about pleasing anyone except my teachers, who wouldn't set the Cruciatus Curse on you if you failed. I studied my new timetable along with my brother.

"Not too bad, we're outside all morning." Ron noted. "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, and then Care of Magical Creatures. Damn, we're still with the Slytherins …"

"Double Divination this afternoon." Harry groaned.

"You should have given it up." Hermione noted, buttering toast. "Then you could be doing something better."

Rustling announced the arrival of the morning post, and everyone looked up. I didn't see my owl among them, nor apparently Harry saw Hedwig as he also looked down quickly. The rest of breakfast passed quickly, and shortly we were trudging across the muddy grass towards the greenhouses. Collecting bubotuber pus … delicious …

Care of Magical Creatures was, sadly, not much better. Hagrid introduced us to a disgusting creature that he called a Blast Ended Skrewt. Thankfully with only a few burns later, lunch arrived.

And then Divination, as though my day could not get worse.

"Today my dears, we shall begin examining the stars." Professor Trelawney began the lesson. "The movements of the planets and the mysterious portents that they portray only to us who understand the steps of the heavenly dance …"

I was glad for the armchairs conveniently placed neat the curtained windows, as I opened one slightly and sighed in relief as a breeze brushed my face. I could see the horse-like creatures playing over the Dark Forest, teaching a younger one how to fly.

She gave us plenty of homework when we left the class, making our way down to the Great Hall for dinner. Everyone seemed to be in a fantastic mood still, except Spark and I. He seemed irritable… again. Eventually I gave up, and said goodnight to my friends, leaving before dessert was even served. I left the castle, walking into the cool summer night of the grounds. I went over to the bridge, leaning out. Spark squeaked his disgust, clutching my shoulder tighter.

I frowned at him. "Idiot." I muttered. "You're the one with wings, silly."

He ignored me.

I heard the distant rumbling of the rest of the school getting up to go to bed, or do homework, and a few trickled out into the grounds as I had. I imagined how the rest of the school was anticipating the coming tournament, and how they probably imagined themselves entering – and winning it. Eternal fame, glory and riches. Kudos to them. But no one else seemed to grasp the danger warnings Professor Dumbledore had given. _They_ probably wouldn't know danger if it smacked them in the face while blaring all the horns it had, I mused. Sighing, I realised that all I could do is worry; it was out of my hands anyway.

"Hey, little Gryffindor." Blaise called, coming to join me leaning over the bridge.

"I'm not all that little, you know." I retorted, smiling at him.

He raised an eyebrow, looking down at me. Pssht. Such a Slytherin.

"What're you doing out here, anyway?" He continued, ignoring my response.

"Thinking, yourself?"

"Much the same. Probably about different things though, ae?" He winked at me, and I rolled my eyes, grinning.

"Yea, I'm thinking about school, and you're thinking about … no, don't tell me, I don't think I want to know." I teased him. He put a hand to his throat.

"Me? Think about such? I would never. You're a dirty little girl to think such a thing!"

I laughed, and he joined in, before we lapsed into silence, thinking our own relatively safe thoughts. Or at least mine were safe. I vowed to myself that I wasn't going to fret over the impending doom of the tournament, something that I realistically knew I was going to break by morning.

By the time Thursday came around I had only fretted every evening, and the entire school was buzzing with excited, nervous energy. Except Professor Snape, who was in a temper. As well as the tournament approaching, Thursday was our first Defence Against the Dark Arts class for the year, with Mad-Eye Moody. Tales had spread quickly about his classes, and the rest of Gryffindor was almost beside themselves by lunch. I wasn't so sure I was looking forward to the class; whenever I saw him; Professor Mad-Eye seemed to be watching me, and my brother. Of course, being so celebrated, many already stared (in particular first years … do you know how annoying that is?), but I felt this was something else, and he kind of freaked me out, to be honest. Leaving lunch early, the rest of the house lined up outside the classroom, and even the Slytherins were there early too. Fashionably so, however. Harry, Hermione and Ron rushed to the front of the class, but Draco grabbed my hand and sat me with him, about the fourth row or so. I was glad, I didn't want any more attention from this unconventional Professor. As he stumped into the classroom, he looked around at the over-eager Gryffindor's and told them to put their books away. Draco smirked, obviously believing his arrogance to be foresight in this situation. I sighed, again. Wasn't there _any_ hope for him?

Professor Mad-Eye called the register, pausing what seemed like an overly long time over my name, even seeming to take in my seating preferences in compared to my brothers' before continuing, but I might just be getting paranoid. I hoped I was, as the grizzled man began to tell us what he was going to teach us.

"Straight into it. Curses. There are many different curses, from all strengths of magic. I'm supposed to show you the nice little counter curses and move on. That's what the Ministry wants. I'm not supposed to show you Dark curses until you're sixth years. Dumbledore has a high opinion of this class, however, and also believes you're ready to see these illegal spells. I believe in preparing you, because the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How can you defend against the unknown? Someone who's trying to curse you isn't going to explain his actions first, all polite and nice like. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert. You need to be watchful. You need to pay attention in class, Miss Brown.

"So, do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished be wizarding law?"

Evidently, the magical eye could see through the wooden desks in front of him, as, blushing, Lavender shoved her divination homework into her bag. But if he could see through wood, could he see through cloth? Was there anything he _couldn't_ see through? I felt a bit faint, turning my arm face down in my lap. Also, was he going to show us illegal curses? In a _classroom?_ Was he insane? I had a fair feeling I knew what was coming, and felt my stomach sink to my knees, regretting the sandwich I'd eaten over lunch.

Several hands around the classroom rose into the air, unsurprisingly Hermione's was there, but also Ron's. Draco, with a smirk, had similarly put his hand in the air. Professor Moody picked Ron, and the other dropped their hands.

"Err, my dad told me about one," he began tentatively. "Is it called the Imperius Curse or something?"

"Ah, yes, yes. Your father _would_ know about that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble a little while back." Moody pulled out a jar, reaching in and pulling out a spider, setting the jar back on his desk. "_Imperio!_" he muttered, holding it up for all to see.

The spider began to swing on a silken cord dangling from the hand that held it, back and forward like a pendulum, before back-flipping onto a desk, where it began to cartwheel, and do a multitude of other circus tricks. The class was laughing, even Ron, who hated spiders. Draco, and many others, were half out of their seats to get a better view of the spider, which was now tap dancing, finishing the performance with a painful looking bow.

'_Spiders aren't meant to do that.'_ Sparks' voice was a mix between awed and frightened as he quietly flew in to rest on my shoulder. I watched Moody's' eye follow him, though none of the other class had noticed yet.

'_No.'_ I agreed, equally repulsed. _'It's disgusting, and cruel. The implications of that curse…'_

"Think it's funny do you?" Professor Moody barked, as if reading my thoughts. "Would you like it, if I did it to you, too?"

In the resulting silence, you could here the spiders' legs touch the desk as it crawled slowly back towards the jar.

"Total control." He continued relentlessly. "I could make it commit suicide, push itself down one of your throats…

"Years back there were scores of witches and wizards being controlled under the Imperius Curse, in the days of the Dark Lord. After he fell, the Ministry had to sort out the innocent from those who claimed they had no free will.

"The Imperius Curse, however, is not infallible, and don't think for a moment it is. It can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how. It is no light task. It takes real strength. Better avoid being hit with it, if you can." Professor Moody stopped again, putting the spider back into the jar, and pulling out another. Looking around the room, he asked if someone could tell him another curse. Hermione's hand went up. Surprisingly, Neville's hand went up. Moody picked him, to everyone's amazement.

"There's one – the Cruciatus Curse." He volunteered in a small voice. I felt like someone had dropped a bucket of ice water over me, and my stomach dropped again to my ankles. Distantly, I felt Draco's hand grip mine under the desk, and a small part of me realised that Moody could see this, but I couldn't quite tell where he was looking right now.

"You're name's Longbottom?" Professor Mad-Eye asked, and nervously Neville nodded. Turning to face the rest of the class again, he held the spider up.

"It needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea. _Engorgio._" He began. Several chairs scraped as a few in the front few rows pushed back.

"_Crucio._" He muttered, as if to himself.

The spider curled up, it's legs stiffening and trembling, rocking its body from side to side. There was no sound in the classroom, but I could hear screams, as if the spider had voice. Or perhaps they were just my memories. I hoped no one else heard them. The spider began to jerk more violently, and I wished I could have closed my eyes against the Curse I knew well.

"Stop it!" Hermione's shrill voice broke the silence and tension. Following her gaze, which was not on the spider, I saw Neville seemed to be in a similar state. His hands were clenched, and his face white. I shuddered.

"Pain." Moody said softly, shrinking the spider and putting it back into the jar. "You don't need thumbnails, brands or knives if you know that Curse. It was also popular once, too.

"Does anyone know the last curse?"

Hermione's hand was the only one in the air, shaking, as everyone watched Professor Moody pull the last spider out of the jar.

"Avada Kedavra." She whispered.

"The last and the worst." Mad-Eye confirmed, a twisted smile crossing his scarred face.

This time I did shut my eyes, but I still saw the bright flash go through the classroom.

The flash of bright, green, light.


	6. Chapter 6: Imperio

I, surprisingly, didn't feel hungry that night, so instead of going to the Great Hall for dinner I went out to the darkening grounds, down to the edge of the lake. On the way I saw Neville, with Professor Moody, being led back into the classroom. I felt his magical eye on me as I silently sympathized. Neville was pale, and staring into space. I didn't feel much better myself. Shaking free of Draco as he headed towards the Great Hall, I also glimpsed my Harry, Hermione and Ron. Harry also looked a bit shocked, Hermione was scowling, but Ron looked thralled by the lesson. Those spells were illegal. The _most _illegal spells, I realised, resting my head against the willow tree behind me. To show them in a classroom…

I let my head fall forward onto my drawn up knees, shuddering. And to think I had to be in that classroom _again_ tomorrow morning. Was he going to loose the Blast Ended Skrewts, or some other dangerous creature on us? I felt sick again, and there was a ringing in my ears, from the screams I had heard from the spider and my own memories.

"I thought I'd find you here." George Weasleys' voice came out of the darkness further along the shore.

"Hey, I thought she'd be here. It was my idea." Fred argued. The twins ducked under the low branches, coming over to where I sat. I forced a smile that I hoped was reassuring.

"We both thought you'd be here." George grudgingly admitted. "You missed dinner. We brought you a few rolls, in case you were hungry. Harry and Ron were a bit worried."

"Hermione went to the library." Fred rolled his eyes, handing me a roll as he sat down beside me. George dropped down on my left.

"A bit worried is an understatement, George." Fred continued. "Harry looked pretty bad over tea, and Ron told us what happened in DADA. Hit you a bit harder, did it?"

I looked down at the roll, which I was shredding, not eating. "I'm alright, stop fussing so much. You don't need to worry." I forced a slightly better smile up for them, deciding Professor Moody was as mad as his name proclaimed. What was at the manors of home, stayed there, and a crazy teacher flaunting illegal spells in a classroom was _not_ going to give anyone cause to worry enough to ask questions.

A few weeks passed uneventfully and I forced myself not to worry the others. Many lessons, even Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons, passed uneventfully, before Mad-Eye Moody brought out the next batch of crazy. He announced that he was going to put us under the Imperius curse the following lesson. The other professors had been handing out more and more homework, and making lessons harder as well, which Professor McGonagall explained was in preparation for the O. the following year. I almost thought that the teachers had a bet going; which student would break down first. Idly, I watched Neville do amazing gymnastic feats, and Hermione sing opera. None of my classmates seem to have any control, and unable to fight off the effects of the curse.

"Miss Potter." Moody growled, as nervously I stepped forwards into the cleared space. "_Imperio._"

A calm came over me, and everything seemed better, and brighter. Why should I worry about Harry and the tournament? Why should I worry about homework, and Professor Moody?

As if summoning him, his voice spoke, faintly, very far away. '_Do a handstand … do a handstand, and walk around on your hands for a bit …_'

That didn't seem like such a bad suggestion. Why shouldn't I? Obediently I pushed myself up into a handstand (which, I normally cannot do, actually), and walked around the classroom.

'_Good,_' the voice came back. '_Now, stand back up … stand back up and push your sleeves to your elbows … push your sleeves up …_'

Smiling dreamily, I stood from my handstand and pushed up my right sleeve, before reaching for my left.

But I shouldn't do that.

'_Push your sleeves up._' The voice commanded. But I didn't like that. My left arm was … what was wrong with it? I couldn't seem to remember, so why should it matter? Shrugging to myself in my dreamland I grabbed my left sleeve. Then I remembered. My left arm … it was disfigured. I shouldn't push my sleeve up. I removed my hand again.

'_Push your sleeves up!_' the voice got more insistent. But did it seem quieter?

'_No! I won't!_' I thought back, decidedly pulling my right sleeve down safely. As if waking up, the fog over my brain lifted, and I swayed on the spot. Looking around, I saw Draco watching, halfway out of his seat, looking panicked. I felt his fear. My arm wasn't disfigured; it was branded, branded by the Dark Mark since I was eleven, and if I had showed that in a classroom …

I glared at Professor Moody, as I slunk back to my seat. He could see through cloth, and he had known it was there. He hadn't told Professor Dumbledore, or I would have been questioned by now, so why try to make me show it in a classroom? Was he testing me? Was he testing my resistance to his curse, or if I had any loyalty to the Dark Lord? The only loyalty I had stemmed from fear of rejection, and that twisted loyalty had given me the power to overcome his curse. What the hell was he playing at?

"Very good work, Miss Potter." He growled, watching me walk to the back of the class. "She threw off my curse, after a moment of submission. This is what I want you all to learn. CONSTANT VIGILANCE! Mr Potter, you next."

After classes for the day finished, the news swept through school that the delegations for Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would be arriving the following Friday, and that the lessons would end an hour early in preparation for such. If at all possible, excitement levels around the school rose, the Triwizard Tournament becoming one of the only topics discussed among students. There was still much resentment over the age restriction that was set, but not even that had much of a dampening effect on the week preceding Halloween. Sadly, it wasn't just the students infected by the excitement. Filch rose to new heights of fury, and the school was scrubbed clean, much to the disgust of some of its inhabitants.

On Friday, you could have cut the tension with a butter knife. No one could pay attention in class, and even more surprisingly, none of the teachers minded. Shortly after six, with much pomp, the Beauxbatons carriage arrived. It was a huge affair, pulled by huge winged horses. All explicable thanks to the huge woman who stepped out of it, followed by a dozen or so students wearing impractical robes of silk. None of them had cloaks, and most of them were shivering. A little while later, the Durmstrang students arrived, a skeletal-looking ship rising out of the depths of the lake. As opposite as could be to the Beauxbatons students, each of the Durmstrang students was dressed in bulky furs. After the pleasantries, the students again moved forward, led by their headmaster, who had an arm about one of his other students shoulders. Rapidly, whispers spread through the crowd; it was Viktor Krum, Quidditch legend who many students had just watched play over summer. Sighing at the foolishness surely to come, I turned and walked with the other students back towards the castle.


	7. Chapter 7: Champion

As we all filed back into school for the welcoming feast, everyone was whispering.

"_Look,_ it's _him_!"

"Viktor, Viktor Krum! I didn't know he was still in school…"

"He's an amazing Quidditch player … do you think he'll sign my hat?"

I pushed around the latter group of girls, heading in. The Beauxbatons lot were already seated at Ravenclaw table, as I made my way over to Harry, Ron and Hermione the Durmstrang students sat at Slytherin. Draco was talking to Viktor Krum, and gave me a smug smile as I sat.

When all the students had entered, the teachers began to file in, taking their seats at the head table. Professor Dumbledore, Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff were last, and the Beauxbatons students stood respectfully for their Headmistress, remaining so until she was seated. Our own Headmaster remained standing until there was silence in the Hall.

"Good evening, ladies and gentleman, ghosts, and most particularly, guests. I have great pleasure in welcoming you to Hogwarts. I hope your stay here will be most enjoyable. Thee Tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast, so for now, dig in!"

There were more dishes than normal tonight, including several that were clearly foreign. I stuck to my normal small helping of food.

"Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?" A girl from Beauxbatons stood near us, eyeing the closest foreign dish. She had long silvery hair, and deep blue eyes. I saw Ron go purple, and felt pretty purple myself. Did _all_ the foreign girls look like that?

"You can have it." Harry replied, sounding pretty normal, thankfully. He pushed the dish towards her.

"You 'ave finished wiz it?"

"Yeah." Ron breathed, finding his voice again. "Yeah, it was excellent." He continued to ogle the girl as she walked back to Ravenclaw with the dish. Harry laughed, as Hermione bristled.

"They don't make them like that at Hogwarts." Ron continued, obliviously.

After the feast finished, and the plates were wiped clean, Professor Dumbledore stood again. A buzz of excitement hung in the air, the same buzz I'd been feeling all week.

"The moment has come, and the Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I'd like to say a few words of explanation first, before we bring in the casket, to clarify the procedure which we will be following this year. But firstly let me introduce Mr Bartemius Crouch, the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and Mr Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

Applause filled the hall, quiet for Mr Crouch, and louder for Mr Bagman, who acknowledged it with a wave of his hand., and they will

"Mr Bagman and Mr Crouch have worked for months to organise the Tournament and will be joining myself, Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff on the panel of judges. The casket then, if you please Mr Filch."

The caretaker, previously lurking in the corner, approached Dumbledore, carrying a large wooden chest, encrusted with jewels. It appeared very old, and necks craned all over the Hall to see it better.

"The arrangements for the tasks the champions must accomplish have already been seen to by Mr Bagman and Mr Crouch. As you know, there will be three tasks spread evenly throughout the school year, and each task will test the champions in many ways. They will be tested on their magical prowess, their daring, their powers of deduction and, of course, their ability to cope with danger.

"Three students will be participating in the Tournament. One champion from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform the tasks, and the champion with the highest amount of marks will receive the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector … the Goblet of Fire!" Professor Dumbledore tapped his wand three times upon the lid of the chest, reaching in as the lid creaked open. He drew out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. Unremarkable except for the fact it was filled with writhing blue flames. Clearly, it lived up to it's name.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as school champion needs merely put their name into the Goblet. They will have twenty-four hours in which to do so, as the champions will be drawn tomorrow night after the Halloween feast. It will be placed in the Entrance Hall so all have access to it. Also, to avoid younger students submitting their names, I will be drawing an age line around it. Nobody under the age of seventeen may cross and enter.

"Of entering, I caution that you do not put your name in lightly. Once a champion has been selected, he or she is obliged to see the Tournament through to the very end. There can be no change of heart once the champions are selected. Now, I bid goodnight to you all."

Saturday gave us plenty of free time the next day, and many people hovered around the Entrance Hall, watching who submitted their names or following the foreign students around. Not to sound like Hermione, but I spent the day doing something useful; the mounds of homework our teachers had piled upon us. Unfortunately, even in the library it was hard to concentrate, as people everywhere were talking about the upcoming selection of champions. Eventually I gave up, dropping my books off at my dorm and heading downstairs. By the time the evening rolled around, the school was so tense it seemed it were going to snap. The feast seemed to drag, and barely anyone touched his or her food, glancing every few minutes at Professor Dumbledore. Eventually the plates cleared, and the Headmaster stood. The sudden silence was profound.

"The Goblet is almost ready to make its decision. I estimate one more minute. Meanwhile, I'll give a last instruction. When the champions names are called I would ask that you please come to the top of the hall and proceed through to the next chamber," he gestured at a door behind the head table, "Where you will be given your first instructions."

Following this, Professor Dumbledore extinguished most of the candles in the room, plunging everyone into semi-darkness, the Goblets' blue-white fire almost painful to look at.

"Any second …" I heard Lee Jordan whisper.

Suddenly, the flames in the cup turned red, flaring high into the Hall, sparks flying like fireworks at the selection of the first champion. As the spout of fire died, a charred bit of paper fell, to be caught by Dumbledore and unfolded. As the fire returned to it's blue-white colour, the Headmaster held out the paper.

"The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum." He read in a clear voice. A storm of applause spread through the Hall, as the Quidditch, and now school champion, stood and walked through the Hall. The clapping died down as the Goblet once again flared red. A bit of paper fell, and once again, the students held their breaths.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," Professor Dumbledore read out. "Will be Fleur Delacour!"

Applause shook the Hall again as the girl with the silvery hair made her way towards the high table, proceeding through the door. Some of the other Beauxbatons students were sobbing, obviously distraught at not becoming school champion. I didn't see why, exactly, you'd want to volunteer.

As once again the Goblet flared, the tension rose in the Hall. Hogwarts was next.

Professor Dumbledore reached up, plucking the scorched paper out of the air, appearing to take an age to unfold it. "The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!"

Hufflepuff leaped to their feet, screaming and cheering for the school champion, their champion. Cedric, another Quidditch player I remembered, made his way through the Hall, grinning wildly. I relaxed, a grin spreading my face too. Why was I worried? With the age limit, it wasn't as if any of my friends could enter the Tournament. None of them would be hurt, and I could relax. I leaned back in my seat, feeling as if I was floating again, a burden being lifted from my shoulder. I looked up staring at the clear, pristine night sky. I heard a gasp, though, and sighed. I think I worry too much, but what could go wrong now? All three champions were selected. But as I looked, Professor Dumbledore unfolded a _fourth_ piece of paper, staring at it for an unseemly long time.

"Harry Potter." He finally called.

And the well-known sinking feeling was back.


	8. Chapter 8: Here Be Dragons

Of course, it had happened just when it had all been going perfectly. The three champions – _three_ – had been selected. Three perfectly old and experienced champions, before the Goblet had spit out a fourth name. A fourth champion should _not_ have been selected, so of course it had been my brother. Him and his blasted magnetism to danger. But had he put in his own name? I'd been in the Entrance Hall when Fred and George had tried to fool Professor Dumbledore's age line, and watched them, who where only a few months younger than the limit, get spit back out. So how had he done it? And why had the Goblet picked Cedric, giving Hogwarts two champions? There were too many questions to be answered. As my brother had stood and stumbled his way to the high table, I had left. I'd had a bad feeling about the Tournament from the time it was announced, and I thought Professor Dumbledore, Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman had made it _safe_. The knots in my stomach whispered that it wasn't going to be safe enough.

From under the willow tree by the lake I heard the other students file out, Beauxbatons heading back to the carriage, or walking in small groups, chattering in French. I saw some of the Durmstrang boys and girls head out to their ship, and others walk along the edge of the lake. What would all of the foreign students think, let alone Hogwarts students?

"You are the Potter girl, are you not? A Durmstrang boy with wide hulking shoulders ducked under my tree, coming to stand in front of me. I stood, looking up at him. He was at least two hand spans taller than me and quite intimidating.

"Yes, I am. I have a name. It's Amy." I said warily. I didn't like being known as 'the Potter girl'.

"How did your brother put his name into the Goblet?"

Of course he had come asking about _that_. It hadn't even been an hour since his selection, and already they came questioning. "I don't know." I told him. "If he put his name in himself, he didn't tell me. If he got an older student to trick it and put his name in, he didn't tell me. I don't believe he did it."

"Of course he did it, if he didn't, who did?" the Durmstrang boy scowled at me, taking a step closer.

I stepped back, against the tree, feeling _really_ intimidated. "I don't know." I muttered, frustrated. Who would? And why?

"Pardon?" he leaned forward. He was very close now.

"I don't know!" I said slightly louder.

"Amy?" Draco's voice came from just outside the tree. "Are you okay?" the pale blonde boy ducked under the branches, looking up at the Durmstrang boy standing so close to me, and myself backed up against the tree trunk. He scowled. "Are you bothering her?" He asked.

"No. Vat is it to you?" he stepped back, turning to face Draco. I sighed, quite relieved.

"She's my girlfriend, that's what it is to me."

Sighing quickly turned into choking, and blushing quaffle red.

"Fine." The Durmstrang boy sneered. "I only vanted to ask a question, anyvay." He turned and left.

"Girlfriend, now, is it?" I asked Draco.

"Just warning the opposition." He smirked, moving closer. "I noticed you left after Potter got called up. I don't suppose you know-"

I glared at him. "What do you think Durmstrang was here for? No, I don't know how he got to be a second school champion."

"Had to ask." Draco shrugged. We sat in silence, before it got to late for any of us to really be out in the grounds before heading back up to the castle, each lost in our own thoughts.

On Monday at classes, it became clear that the rest of the school thought Harry had put his own name into the Goblet of Fire. And how unkindly they felt about such a thing. The other Gryffindor's were ecstatic, cheering Harry as he came into the common room and such. Slytherin house was predictably acerbic towards Harry. More so, that is. It was Hufflepuff that really accentuated the change. Normally, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff got along well, but now the two houses weren't talking. Hufflepuff house rarely got any fame, the only instant of which I can think of immediately was when they beat us at Quidditch, when Harry fell of his broom. Hufflepuff were overjoyed at having a school champion – _the_ school champion in their, and others, minds. Thankfully, walking the Skrewts in Care of Magical Creatures separated most Slytherins and Gryffindors. Most because, as usual, Draco and Blaise kept me near them in all of our classes. Not that I really minded; as much as Harry, Hermione and Ron were my friends, so were Draco and Blaise.

The week continued, and Harry was obviously having a bad time of it. Ron wasn't talking to him, and all of the Slytherins, and not a few of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws started wearing 'Potter Stinks' badges, flashing them at my brother as he passed. At least Draco had the tact not to offer me one. Hermione and I sat with him in class, and at meals, talking to him and trying our best to distract him from the abuse the rest of the school was hurling at him. Slowly, the weeks sped up, getting closer and closer to the first task. I saw Harry fretting more and more, as Hagrid had shown him the dragons. What kind of task was a dragon? Neither Spark nor I could help. I returned to worrying, my stomach twisting wildly. Dragons were dangerous creatures. They were huge, almost entirely magic-proof and had a multitude of weapons. Clearly, someone was hoping Harry would get seriously injured. I refused to think of worse.

The day of the first task dawned clear, and classes were announced to stop at midday. After lunch, the school was to head down to the enclosure. Harry was pale at lunch, and so was Professor McGonagall, when she came to fetch him. He dropped him fork with a clatter, moving woodenly after her as she led him out of the hall.

"I hope he's going to be alright." Hermione fretted. She wasn't the only one.

"Relax, didn't you say he got the hang of the spell last night?" I reassured her. I didn't think I sounded reassuring.

We headed down to the enclosure, walking through the edges of the Forest to a clearing, the school streaming past a tent where I assumed the champions were preparing. Draco found me in the crowd, grabbing my hand. He didn't know what was in store for my brother, and the others. He looked excited.

"Wanna bet on how long your brother's going to last?" He asked me. I scowled at him, shaking my head. He pulled me over to sit with him and Blaise, in the middle of their Slytherin cronies. I didn't argue; we had a good view from there. Looking around I saw that the enclosure was rocky, and in the centre there was a pile of eggs. In that pile was a shining, golden egg. It seemed pretty clear that was the target. Retrieve the golden egg made sense. I could hear everyone chatting, speculating what the champions were going to face. There were plenty of dangerous magical beasts, I'm sure I heard three quarters of them named, before a blue-green dragon was led into the enclosure by at least a dozen handlers. The talk increased in volume and several people pointed, excited.

"Dragons?" Draco asked gleefully. "They have to get past dragons?"

"All the same dragon, or do they have different dragons?" Blaise speculated with him.

We all heard a shrill whistle pierce the air, and most of the talking fell away. Ludo Bagman was commentating and arrived slightly out of breath.

"Hello there ladies and gentleman and welcome to the first task of the Triwizard Tournament! As I'm sure you can all deduce, the champions have to each get past the dragon and collect the golden egg. Mr Diggory of Hogwarts is our first champion today, facing the Swedish Short Snout you see before you…"

I saw Cedric walk into the enclosure, emerging through a gate nearly underneath us. He looked pale, and very small from up here. I wasn't sure I wanted to watch, but I couldn't help peeking as the crowd screamed and yelled, pretty much telling me how he was doing. He had transformed a rock into a Labrador, which was barking at the dragon, and running around. The dragon was chasing the dog, as Cedric crept up to the nest. The crowd gasped as the dragon turned around and blew a stream of fire at Cedric, coming _very_ close to roasting him alive.

"… A narrow miss, Mr Diggory!" Mr Bagman was saying. I wondered if the other three champions could hear what was happening. After about fifteen minutes in the enclosure, Cedric Diggory had the egg, and the judges held up the marks. Cedric limped out of the enclosure, to another tent where presumably Madam Pomfrey waited. The dragon was removed, to be replaced by a green dragon, which appeared smaller than the last.

"This lovely specimen is a Welsh Green, kids, to be faced by the lovely Miss Fleur Delacour!"

The whistle once again blew, and shortly after the Beauxbatons champion appeared in the enclosure. Upon entering she cast some sort of charm. The dragon swayed, as if tired, before laying down. It appeared to be almost asleep, as confidently, Fleur set forward. A rumbling came from the dragon, and many people laughed as they realised it was snoring. Unfortunately for Fleur, it's snoring also consisted of jets of fire, one of which caught her skirt on fire, as she had unwisely walked into its range. Putting it out with a stream of water from her wand she continued forward, more cautiously. She also seemed to be limping a bit. That would surely reduce marks.

As she drew the near, the dragon snuffled, beginning to wake as it realised someone was close to her nest. Quickly, Fleur darted in and grabbed the egg before the dragon fully awoke. Not bad, I admitted silently.

Krum was next, facing a large red dragon that Mr Bagman called a Chinese Fireball. It looked like a bigger form of Spark, but with more spikes. He hit the dragon with a spell, right in the eye. The dragon roared in agony, swinging about to try and see it's opponent. In the confusion, Krum leaped forwards, but had to retreat as the dragon stepped to protect it's eggs, stepping on several of them. In the teachers and judges seats across the enclosure I saw Hagrid wince.

Krum, blood flowing from his shoulder, leap forward to grab the golden egg. The crowd cheered, including Draco.

"He was the quickest!" he pointed out to me. The judges gave marks out; so far Krum was in the lead. However there was still one more champion; Harry. The dragon they led out for him was _huge_. Bigger than any of the others, and far spikier than any of the others. It looked very dangerous and extremely pissed off.

"That's going to _eat_ him." I heard Pansy Parkinson gloat. Sadly, I sort of agreed. How was Harry going to face that monster? Ludo Bagman called it a Hungarian Horntail, and began to describe its many scary qualities, drawing our attention to the spiked tail that was drawing gashes in the rocky earth. I saw Harry emerge, looking white under his shock of black hair. He held up his wand and I saw him cast something, but I couldn't see what exactly he said. A few moments later, his Firebolt appeared.

He began to soar, appearing careless now that he was in the air. He was weaving in and out, darting around the dragon easily.

"Wow, he can fly!" Ludo Bagman was shouting. "Mr Krum, are you watching this?"

Harry rose, higher and higher, taunting the dragon til she rose up. And when she did he dived, grabbing the egg before she realised he was gone.


	9. Chapter 9: Here Be Boys

**Well well well, on a roll aren't I? Holidays, however, are coming to an end, and in a few days I will be back into studying. Yay. But for now, you can all have lots of new chapters!**

**Discalimer: I do not own the world. Or most of the plot. Or most of the characters. I am just borrowing them for you lovely people.**

* * *

December came around with its usual chilliness, winds tossing the Durmstrang ship about on dark waters and making it near impossible for us to venture outside. At least Herbology was in greenhouses, but Care of Magical Creatures got decidedly unpleasant. The Skrewts were about six feet long now, with suckers and stingers and their blasts. All in all, terrifying creatures, which Hagrid doted over. Otherwise, classes went on as normal. Professor Trelawney kept predicting Harry's death, and an impending doom hanging over me (that was new, at least). Professor Snape kept threatening to poison the class, and Professor McGonagall handed out more and more homework.

One Saturday in early December I was out walking by the lake, wrapped up against the cold when I heard brisk footsteps behind me.

"Amy," a masculine voice called. "Amy, vait a moment."

I turned, and came face to face (more like face to chest, though) with the Durmstrang boy who had confronted me on Halloween. He stopped walking too, looking down at me.

"Hello." I said warily, looking up towards him. "What are you doing out in this cold?"

He looked a little surprised. "This is not cold." He said. "Back at Durmstrang, ve vould haff had much snow by now."

I shuddered at the thought.

"I vas out for a valk, and saw you." He looked down at his feet, then back up. "I vanted to apologise. I vas rude to you on Halloveen."

I shrugged. "It's not that much of a deal. My whole school was asking me the same questions until the first task. I'm sure the rest of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons were wondering too, you were just the only one to ask."

"But it vas still rude of me, especially to pressure you so." He glanced around. "I am glad Viktor got chosen, not I." he confessed. "I do not think I vould have done vell vith the dragon. And there are still two tasks to go! Your brother is not very lucky. Especially as he is young."

Mournfully I nodded. I couldn't agree more with this Durmstrang boy. Harry was in danger. He glanced back towards the ship.

"Anyvay, it vas nice talking to you, I must go, ve meet with Karkaroff before dinner. Thank you, Amy." He grabbed my hand, kissing the tops of my fingers politely before jogging back towards their vessel, tossing on the dark water. Well. It was clear he took my jab about having a name. And it was nice of him to apologise, I thought.

'_He was polite, if nothing._' Spark agreed, winging agilely to my shoulder. '_But you ought to know that your boyfriend saw the whole thing._'

I started, yelping aloud. "He is not my boyfriend!" I whispered furiously. "Just because _he _says I'm his girlfriend, doesn't make it so! I'm his … occasional roommate." I finished lamely.

'_Absolutely._' Spark didn't sound convinced. '_Now, can we go inside before my tail turns into an icicle?_'

"It's not that cold yet." I informed him tartly, turning and beginning to trot back up to the castle.

News broke round the castle the very next day. The Yule Ball was approaching, a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament that was open to fourth years and above. Most girls started travelling in groups, giggling as boys looked as if they were going to approach then changing their minds. The girls were always whispering now, comparing dresses, comparing boys, and everything in between. I seemed to be the only girl travelling alone, only mildly interested in how perfect her hair would be on Christmas Eve. I thought all the way back to the summer, and the dress-like dress robes I'd got in Diagon Alley.

"I should probably air it out." I remarked to Spark one evening, walking through the grounds in the last week of term. He sat on my shoulder sullenly, almost buried in my scarf.

'_Probably._' He agreed. '_How about we go inside now and do that? I'll give you plenty of good advice, if you stop taking me into the snow._'

I laughed aloud at the thought. "What kind of advice could you give a girl? Needs more scales?"

He sniffed indignantly. '_I know more than that. By the way, I think you're _friend_ wants to talk to you._' He buried himself deeper into my scarf, giving me the mental image of the Durmstrang boy walking over to join me. Sure enough, when I looked in that direction he was there, crunching over the thin layer of snow, not wearing nearly enough clothes for the weather. Here I was bundled up like a polar bear; he wasn't even wearing the fur cloak the Durmstrang students arrived in.

"Don't you ever get cold?" I called as he drew nearer.

"This isn't too cold yet." He grinned back. "You Hogvarts students are soft. I'm Aleksandar Markov, by the way. Ve vere never properly introduced."

I smiled up at him as he fell into step with me. "Nice to meet you Aleksandar. I do believe I've introduced myself to you already."

We walked for a bit, discussing the weather, and the decorations placed around the castle. The Durmstrang students seemed impressed by Hogwarts, unlike the Beauxbatons lot. We weren't the only students out, either, though there were only one or two other Hogwarts students braving the snow. Eventually we'd wandered down by the lake, conversation kind of coming to a stop.

"Actually, I came out here looking for you." He confessed after a moment of silence. "I vas vondering if you vould go to the Yule Ball vith me."

Surprised, I looked up at him. Not what I had expected, especially when the first time we had met Draco got defensive over me. True, Draco hadn't asked me to the Ball yet, and I didn't expect him to. His arrogance wouldn't let him _ask_, he probably just assumed I'd be going with him. Well, nasty surprise for him.

I smiled up at the tall boy in front of me. "I would like that." I answered. Was that what I was meant to say? I hoped so.

Relief flooded his features. "Thank you for the honour." He winked, before bringing my hand to his lips again, and heading off down the beach towards the ship.

"They're an odd lot, aren't they?" I muttered to myself.

'_That they are._' Spark agreed. '_But now you'd really better go air that dress out, since you have a date._'

I laughed at his transparency, but turned to walk back up to the castle anyway. I'd had enough snow for one day.

Skipping tea that night I remained in the common curled up in front of the fire flicking through some of the books other girls in my dorm had, about hair and such things. It seemed to matter now; I wanted to look good come Christmas Eve. I was there when Ron stumbled in being supported by his sister, Ginny and collapsed into another armchair. She seemed highly amused, but was patting his arm anyway. I stood, making my way over to them

"What happened?" I asked Ginny, worrying more than a little. Ron was grey in the face, and trembling.

"He just asked Fleur Delacour to the ball." She whispered, mouth twisting as she fought a smile down. I choked down my own laughter, any worry I felt fading. I knelt down by the pair, trying to talk soothingly to the poor boy. A moment later, harry burst in, equally grey.

"What's up, Ron?" he asked, joining us in the corner.

"I don't know what made me do it." He whispered wildly. "Merlin's beard, why would I do that?"

"He asked Fleur Delacour out." Ginny repeated to my brother, fighting full laughter.

"You _what_?" Harry laughed.

"I don't know what made me do it!" Ron gasped. "She was standing there – in front of everyone – in the Entrance Hall – talking to Diggory. Everything sort of happened at once … and I asked her!" he moaned in agony, putting his head in his hands. "She looked at me like I was a slug, or something. Didn't answer. I ran after that."

"She's part Veela," Harry agreed. "Her grandmother was one. It wasn't your fault; I bet you got caught when she turned the charm on Diggory. Wasting her time really, he's going with Cho Chang."

Ron looked up, curious.

"I asked her to go with me, and she told me. Just before."

"This is ridiculous." Ron moaned again. "At this rate we'll be the only one's without partners. Well, except for Neville. He asked _Hermione_!"

"What?" Harry looked up, startled. Even I was a bit surprised at that.

"He told me after Potions. She said she was already going with someone else, apparently. Really, who would want to go with Neville?"

"Don't laugh," Ginny began, blushing furiously. She opened her mouth to say more, but then Hermione climbed through the portrait hole.

"Why weren't you all at dinner?" she joined us too, dragging over a chair as she came.

"Because they've both just been turned down by girls they asked to the ball." Ginny told Hermione, silencing Harry and Ron immediately.

"Thanks, Ginny." Ron said sourly.

"All the good looking ones taken, Ron?" Hermione asked him loftily. He was staring at her like he'd just seen her though.

"Hermione, Neville's right. _You're_ a girl-"

"Well spotted." She hissed, and I winced at the depth of trouble Ron was getting himself into.

"You can come with one of us!"

"No I can't." she snapped back. I believed Ginny when she said Hermione had a partner, obviously Ron didn't, and was about to get in shit.

"I can't because I'm already going with someone." Her face was distinctly pink by now. "Just because it's taken _you_ three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one else has spotted I'm a girl!" and she stormed off to the girls dormitory, hair waving like a war banner.

"She's lying." Ron said disbelievingly.

"She's not." Ginny answered. "But I'm not going to tell you who, if she didn't want to say."

"This is stupid." Ron muttered. "Ginny, you can go with Harry, and I'll-"

"I can't." Ginny said, going pink again. "I'm going with Neville. I think I'm going to go have some dinner now."

Ron turned to me. "Hey, Amy, you're a girl."

Harry made a noise that might have been choking, or growling a warning at Ron. I wasn't sure. I frowned at Ron, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Yes, I am. So what?"

"Can you go to the ball with me? Then we only have to find Harry a date."

"No, I can't. I have a date already too. You two are leaving it really late."

Ron scowled. "Malfoy already asked then, has he?"

I spluttered, cheeks flushing. "For your information I am _not_ going with Draco!" I informed him, standing. "I would suggest you two take drastic action, before you both end up going with your owls."


	10. Chapter 10: Menacing Creatures

**Authors' Note**

** Eh, back to class and assignments, guys. Easy :P I'm trying to keep writing for you around all the photography shtick, and design I have to do (find me at ). Here's an extra long and _really_ uneventful chapter in my opinion. There's some good bits. I think I'm going to skip a bit of stuff that Harry/Ron/Hermione do. Amy isn't with them too much, that's my reasoning.**

**From now on I'm going to try put the liney things in as paragraph breaks, too, because this formatting is weird.**

**Reviews are very much loved!**

** - Elle :)**

* * *

The next few weeks passed – almost – uneventfully. Snow was falling heavier on and around Hogwarts; the Beauxbatons carriage looked like a frosted cake, next to Hagrid's' hut which looked like a gingerbread house. The Durmstrang ship had ice coating all the riggings, and I wondered if it was really as cold as it looked on board the vessel. One chilly day, about a week until Christmas, I was getting some of the homework done in the blissful silence of the library (the Gryffindor common room was much too rowdy for such studious things, especially with people turning into canaries every odd minute), when Draco Malfoy swaggered in.

Oh dear, I thought. Spark chirruped a quiet agreement. I saw a few wary third years slip away as Crabbe and Goyle looked about menacingly.

"Amy, my snowflake, will you go to the ball with me?" he asked extravagantly, smirking like I'd already said yes.

I took a deep breath, feeling I was going to need it. "Actually, I can't."

The smirk melted off his face. "What do you mean you can't?"

"I was asked a few weeks ago, by someone else." I told him, a blush rising. "I said I'd go with him."

He frowned. "I thought we would be going together."

"You didn't ask me until now. It's less than a week until the ball, Draco. Of course I said yes to someone else."

He scowled at me, and then shrugged. "I'll go ask Pansy." Growling, he walked out of the library. Crabbe leered at me before following his leader. I knew that particular confrontation was going to happen sooner or later, but I don't enjoy arguing with Draco. I don't enjoy arguing with anybody, so you know. I'd be happy with a quiet life, but being related to the Harry Potter wasn't going to get me that. Well, it could have, if the Dark Lord wasn't in the picture, and Harry and I were just another pair of kids. The Dark Lord screws up my life doubly so, and stems all my problems, it seems. Ruining the life of a teenage witch – didn't evil wizards have much better to do anymore?

But it was Draco's arrogance that got in the way of what probably – maybe – could be a relationship. His arrogance, and his assumptions that we already _were _in a relationship. Living with him most of the time, I tried to head off arguments as much as I could, but he was just such a prick sometimes. I looked back down at my homework before sighing and slamming the book shut, heading back up to the common room.

* * *

Christmas morning I woke to the squeal of other girls already opening their presents.

"Come on, Amy, get up." Hermione threw a pillow at me grinning. I stuck my tongue out at her, tossing it back. Christmas day seemed to pass in a blur, with a huge lunch and a snowball fight outside with the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione. At five, Hermione pulled out of the fight, heading into the castle, and I supposed I should follow.

"Who are you going with?" Ron bellowed after her, but she merely waved. I grinned, lobbing my last snowball at him, catching him unawares before running after Hermione. I caught up to her in the Entrance Hall, gasping at the cold air.

"Figured I might come with you." I panted. "I'll probably need a lot of help with my hair, anyway. Catch some girls to help me before they're too busy themselves."

Hermione grinned at me. "I'll help you, if you'll help with mine."

I smiled back. "Deal."

Fifteen minutes later we were both in our dresses beginning to eye each other's hair. Hermione's dress was a soft blue material that floated as she moved, with soft shoulder sleeves. My dress had one sleeve – clinging tight to my left arm, covering to my wrist – and a decorated, tight, bodice before falling sleekly to the floor, leaving one shoulder bare. It was a pine needle green that matched my eyes, with black detailing.

Hermione pulled out two bottles of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, grabbing a tall mirror. "I was going to straighten mine, putting it into a loose knot." She told me. "Did you know what you were doing with yours?"

Sheepishly, I shook my head, smiling. "I came up hoping for advice." I confessed.

She laughed, instructing me to wait, before disappearing into the common room, returning with Ginny and a few other girls, handing my hair over to them. I chatted with her, watching her slowly straighten her mass of bushy hair, and twist it up elegantly. One of the girls detached from my hair, attacking my face with powders and such things. I'd known that muggle girls did this, but I didn't realise there were wizarding equivalents.

By the time Hermione and I were done, with the assistance of a few others in between their own processes, it was nearly half past seven. I was amazed at what had been done with my hair; they had twisted it up into a loose bun, with a few artfully placed twists of hair curling over my bare shoulder. Always having straight hair, it never occurred to me having curls such as these would be possible. Silently, I praised Sleekeazy's name.

In our chatter, Hermione had confessed to me her ball date; none other than the Viktor Krum, Durmstrang champion. I told her I also had a Durmstrang date, to which she was momentarily surprised. It seemed everyone thought I'd go with Draco. Sadly, I guessed it wasn't only Draco who assumed we were in a relationship past living arrangements. However, Hermione and I agreed to head down to the Entrance Hall to meet our Durmstrang dates together.

* * *

I really don't do feminine things well, perhaps you've noticed. I'm not normally the sort to wear a floaty dress, and dance with handsome strangers in a winter wonderland of the Great Hall. The Yule Ball was magnificent, with delightful entertainment, decorations, food, and the works. Let's just stick with magnificent and skip onwards before my mind falls out at all the unfamiliar words.

* * *

A week or so after Christmas classes started again, and no one was looking forward to Herbology, or Care of Magical Creatures first thing Monday morning, though Ron pointed out that the Skrewts would probably warm us up, either as we chased them, ran away screaming, or they set Hagrid's cabin on fire. When we got to the cabin however, a fierce looking witch was waiting for us instead.

"Hurry up." She was barking as students straggled down to the class. "I am Professor Grubbly-Plank, and I will be your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher."

"Where's Hagrid?" Harry asked loudly, as she ignored all the muttering of the other Gryffindors.

"Professor Hagrid is indisposed." She replied shortly, to the laughter of the Slytherins who had just joined us. Unsurprisingly, none of the Slytherins looked surprised to see a replacement teacher.

Professor Grubbly-Plank led us past the Beauxbatons carriage to a tree on the edge of the Forest, where a large unicorn was tethered. The other girls 'ooohed' and 'aaahed' at the creature that made the snow look grey and the Forest even darker than normal. It was pawing at the ground with gold hooves and tossing its head, an oddly threatening move. Then again, not so odd when you think about the massive spike protruding from it's forehead.

"Boys, get back." Our _lovely_ new tutor instructed. "Girls, get to the front, but approach with care. Unicorns prefer a woman's touch. Easy does it…"

The boys hung back as the girls moved towards the creature, cooing. Even Pansy Parkinson was making some sort of lovey noise in her throat. And I was swept along with them, to pet the goddamned intimidating creature.

"Unicorns are highly magical creatures." Professor Grubbly-Plank began. "Their horns are silver and used in many potions, and their tail-hairs have many uses, including being a powerful thread and the core of many wands. Does anyone here have a wand with the core of unicorn? Ah, yes – Anastasia, is it? Well…"


	11. Chapter 11: Gone Swimming

**A/N: Shortest chapter in a while, but it's a task so it's justified. There should be a few more chapters this weekend I hope. But for now, enjoy and review. I love reviews.**

* * *

A few weeks after term started back we had another Hogsmeade trip, which Draco very politely asked me to accompany him on. I guess he was feeling my rebuttal from the Yule Ball somewhat. Graciously – so I thought – I accepted, meeting him early that Saturday afternoon in the courtyard.

Bending slightly he offered me his hand. Not quite fully formal, but enough to tell me this was the apology I was going to get. Hopefully he wouldn't take me for granted anymore, then. Smiling at his courtesy, I took the offered hand, being pulled in close to him before we walked down to the village.

* * *

After much of the no-melt ice cream from Honeydukes, a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks and a parcel of sugar quills later, I had forgiven Draco and we laughed and joked as we headed back up to the castle. He'd even risked a venture into Madam Puddifoot's and we'd gotten a coffee at the couple's café after Honeydukes. Back at the castle, down by the lakeshore, he'd pulled me close and kissed me. It was a particularly good kiss, I might add, his arms wrapped around my waist, sliding up my back, his warm body standing so close against mine, supporting mine even, as my knees went weak.

And dear, _dear_ Spark sent me the mental image of Aleksandar seeing us as he walked towards the Great Hall for dinner, scowling at the blonde boy holding me so close.

* * *

The weeks before the second task grew faster and faster, and once again I found myself worrying about Harry, as he still hadn't found a solution to the second task. So as the evening of the 23rd of February bloomed, a small bead of hope dawned. If the contestants couldn't perform the task, would they be removed from the Tournament? I sincerely hoped so, and quietly inside hoped that Harry did not find anything in his last night of research.

The morning dawned bright and clear and everyone got seats on the grandstand that was now lining the edge of the lake. The Headmasters and judges were sitting by the shore at their gold-draped table with the contestants standing nearby … but Harry wasn't there. I hoped that he didn't have to participate, he could sit it out, he hadn't found a way, but as the clock read five minutes to the start of the Task, he came running out of the castle, down to the shore. That little bead of hope melted, and the worry that felt like a rock in my stomach was back.

The second task began and Harry waded into the lake, stopping about waist depth. The other contestants had dived under already, and I heard several students laughing as he stood there shivering. I hid my face in my scarf. What on earth was he doing? I heard the laughter die away though, and looked back up to see him throw himself into the water, and the ripples fade as he swam away.

Without surfacing.

Obviously somehow, miraculously even, he had done it.

Fleur Delacour was the first to return, within an hour – without her hostage. She emerged from the lake, covered with red scratches and bites, looking as if she had been chased. After a moment or two of being patched up by Madam Pomfrey, she was looking back at the lake, as if wishing to re-enter.

The hour finished, and still none of the others had returned. I saw several people glance about nervously. Had this gone terribly wrong? Were the champions perhaps unable to return? A moment later, however, Cedric Diggory emerged from the water, with Cho Chang. A small part of me remembered how much Harry liked her, and how this wouldn't please him too well. Cheers erupted from the Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and more than a few Slytherins. So far, the Hogwarts champion was first.

Shortly after Cedric, Viktor Krum emerged from the lake, carrying Hermione, to the cheers of the Durmstrang students. A cold knot of fear began to swell. Krum was plenty outside the time limit … where was Harry?

It seemed like a year, or a million, before Harry emerged from the lake, gasping and floundering, with Ron and a silvery-headed girl, who must've been related to Fleur. Distantly, I heard the Gryffindors, and some Ravenclaws start cheering. He was safe. He was okay. He was being a dumbass rescuing more than once hostage, but he was alive.


	12. Chapter 12: Dark Side Story

**A/N: You know, I reread through this story last night, and thought to myself, 'you know what? Amy doesn't have enough fun with her friends. She's 14, and worrying that her brother is going to be murdered every minute'. Which led me to writing a short interrupt chapter in which she has some fun with her friends. That will be a whole 'nother chapter, because this one got far too long with that at the end.**

**So read on, my lovely followers, and review! And know the next chapter is nearly here ;)**

* * *

The beginning of March began dry, but with cruel winds buffeting many an owl and students with outdoor classes, chapping hands and lips with malice. It was almost a relief to have indoor classes, and as the weekend approached, I debated whether or not I would be taking advantage of the upcoming trip to Hogsmeade. Finally, in potions on Friday afternoon I decided against risking the brisk weather. After writing the potion on the board, Professor Snape was taunting Hermione and Harry over Rita Skeeters' new article, which I hadn't much interest in hearing, giving me the opportunity to think in class without someone chattering at me.

Part way through the lesson Karkaroff swept in, talking quietly to Professor Snape, who kept shaking his head. The former then hovered for the rest of the lesson, clearly not allowing Professor Snape any chance to escape.

I noticed Harry tactfully knock over a bottle, as the lesson was almost finished, ducking behind a desk to clean it up. Grinning at his deviousness, I grabbed my bag and headed out with Hermione and Ron before my Slytherin friends could steal me away for the evening.

* * *

"– Karkaroff wanted to talk to Snape, he said Snape has been avoiding him. He showed him something on his arm, but I couldn't see what it was, said it was clearer than before."

"On his arm?" Hermione asked frowning. I frowned too, but for other reasons. I didn't expect Hermione, or Ron to know the placement of the Dark Mark, but if Karkaroff had one, and was showing it to Snape…

Did that mean Professor Snape had a Dark Mark? He'd seen mine, but other than Draco and those I lived with, no one else had.

And Karkaroff said it was getting clearer? Not that I enjoyed looking at my own, but mine had never been faint or faded. But what if those who had followed Him before He fell had their Marks fade? And now they were coming back? I did not like the sound of this.

The horrible little knot of fear ever-present in my stomach curled up just a little bit tighter, though I wasn't quite sure why.

* * *

Thanks to Rita Skeeters' latest article about Hermione 'playing' Harry, she did not show up to Herbology first thing Monday morning, instead showing up most of the way through Care of Magical Creatures, with heavily bandaged hands.

Hagrid, determined to prove he could teach cuter and more respectful creatures than Skrewts all the time had continued teaching about unicorns for the past few weeks, even procuring a pair of unicorn foals a couple lessons back. Today, he had a large crate of fluffy black creatures with spade-like paws and a polite, puzzled expression.

"Nifflers, they are. Find 'em down mines mostly. They like sparkly stuff quite a lot." Hagrid informed us. As if proving his point, one leaped at Pansy Parkinson, attempting to bite the watch off her wrist. She shrieked, backing away from the crate, and away from the other Slytherins. I slipped into the spot she vacated, smiling up at Blaise and Draco, who grinned down at me. Spark leaned forward on my shoulder, peering into the crate. He had deigned to join me this lesson, since we were no longer studying 'horrible monstrosities', as he put it. Hagrid was pointing towards a patch of freshly dug earth near his pumpkins.

"I've buried some coins. I've got a prize for the student who picks the Niffler that digs up the most. Just you'll want to take off all yer valuables first, and get ready to set 'em loose."

Draco, Blaise and I grabbed one of the fuzzy creatures each, heading around to the far side of the patch and settling on a rather clear patch of grass. Although there was a hint of biting cold still, the weather was clear and the lesson seemed to be pretty relaxed, and fun, even, as the creatures dove in and out of the patch, spitting gold coins out at their student.

Draco and Blaise were discussing the paper we had to write for DADA – something I had done with Hermione's company and was therefore complete a week in advance. Idly, I listened to their conversation, laying back on the grass and bathing in the warm sunlight. Nothing seemed too bad at the moment, thought enough to make me smile. Harry was safe, and the last task was months away, no one seemed to be arguing about anything important, and the weather was nice for this time of year. Also, no huge problems, unlike the disasters of previous years. All in all, quite good. Spark seemed to reflect my good mood, flitting about in the sunlight, doing aerial acrobatics that put the most agile of birds to shame.

* * *

The weeks approaching Easter passed uneventfully, and with improving weather. Draco and I took several walks out in the grounds, often in silence, just enjoying company. All of the work the teachers were setting meant I didn't have a lot of time with my Slytherin friends anymore, something I wasn't the only one to notice. The Easter holidays arrived, and aimlessly wandering corridors with Blaise and Draco led to a discussion of 'having a get together' with some of the other students remaining in the Slytherin dormitories. Plans escalated from there, and Professor Snape, being head of Slytherin house was consulted. He agreed.

Thankfully Professor Snape anticipated the actions of a teenage get together, pulling me aside before entering the common room and giving me a large strip of bandage material to bind over my Mark. I wasn't sure whether to be embarrassed or grateful as I bound my arm, tying it off.

Which is how I found myself in the Slytherin common room (yet again), surrounded by students, snacks, blankets and pillows. It was kind of like a sleepover, one girl said excitedly, not that I'd had a sleepover before to compare. Others compared it to the time all the houses slept in the Great Hall because Sirius Black had broken into the school. This was mainly met with silence, though I got the fact he was referring to the fact I was not a Slytherin.

That was a tad awkward for a moment.

I was introduced to the few Slytherins I had not met before, some of whom were in fifth year, but mostly fourths like Draco and I. I knew Draco and Blaise, obviously, Pansy Parkinson and Anastasia Levy. Also, there was Daphne Greengrass and Victoria Ayers, Oliver Craft, Rory King, Cameron Miggs, and Jack and Neal Cain, laughing and lounging about in the common room, sipping butterbeer and sucking on chocolate wands from Honeydukes.

And indeed, eventually, the inevitable came up.


	13. Chapter 13: Sleepover Games

"Truth or dare?" Blaise asked, looking around mischievously. "I learnt a real cool twist on it over the Christmas holidays."

One of the girls, Daphne, simpered at Blaise. "Of course!" she gushed. "Wouldn't that be great, everyone?"

Everyone else seemed to agree, and I silently thanked the forethought of Professor Snape, before grinning as well.

"What's the twist on it?" Neal asked Blaise, as we all gathered into a closer circle-y thing.

"We're going to need a hat." Blaise said, and then did a head count. "And twelve bits of paper."

Tools procured, he began to write on each bit of paper.

"So, each of these is put into a hat, and drawn out each round. You'll either get a number from one to eleven, or a 'K'. If you get the 'K' you're king for a round." He paused, winking at the girls. "Or queen. You get to pick a number and ask them truth or dare. It totally randomises the game, you see? Balances everything out and all."

He shook the hat, before offering it around. Everyone withdrew a number; I looked down at the paper – 6.

Daphne whooped. "I'm king!" She called. "Er, number two, truth or dare?"

We all looked around at each other, and double-checked our cards.

Blaise Zabini sighed dramatically. "I am two. Let's start with a dare."

She grinned evilly. "Jump right in, shall we? Fine, I dare you to kiss number eight."

"I see how this is going to be." He teased, kneeling and looking around the circle. "Why didn't I just grab a bottle, then?"

Pansy Parkinson also got to her knees, showing us all the number eight.

I think if it had been anyone but Blaise, the first dare would have been awkward, and the plan would have crashed and burned. But it was Blaise, and gracefully, he swept Pansy into his arms, kissing her full on the mouth, before withdrawing and flopping back down to his spot. The others whooped and catcalled, laughing as they all relaxed. This wasn't going to be so bad…

A couple more rounds passed in which I was safe before Blaise drew the king card. Once again, I had the number 6. The number he chose.

"Dare." I smirked, confident.

"I dare you to swap clothes with number seven, here and now. Of course, you both may retain your own underwear. I'm not that heartless." He looked around the circle as I did.

Tall and lanky Neal Cain stood up, eyeing me over. "Am I going to fit those?" he asked doubtfully, a smile playing over his features. He tossed me his shirt, revealing – if I'm any judge – quite a pleasant view.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled off my own long sleeved shirt, passing it to him, deliberately not looking at Draco, or the bandage down my arm. I held my breath as I shed my jeans in front of these people, but nobody commented. Unless you count Blaise wolf-whistling me, who I blushed at. Not a moment later I was in a comfortable, though large, t-shirt and the jeans Neal was previously wearing. For the record, he did fit my clothing. Though badly, and each article was probably tighter than a snakes skin. Sitting back down, I grabbed the hat, returning my number and passing it around again. I pulled king.

"Hmm." I said thoughtfully, looking around the group. "I think I want number one. Truth or dare?"

"Destined to be together, my dear!" Blaise called, idly waving the number one. "I will also go dare, for I live a daring life."

Some others in the group snorted.

"I dare you to French kiss number two." I grinned. "Conventional, indeed, and hopefully embarrassing."

"I'd say embarrassing, yea." Draco flashed the number two around, and the others collapsed with laughter at the prospect. "Are you going to back out, Blaise?"

He appeared to consider it for a moment. "No. I don't think so." Levering himself up he opened his arms. "Draco, my picturesque snowflake, epitome of charm, come here." He requested dramatically.

By now, even I was giggling, as the two boys awkwardly crawled together, and actually went through with my dare.

"Here, I better share these with you all if these dares are popular." Victoria giggled, tossing a bag of Honeydukes peppermint pepper imps into the centre. Passing around the hat, everyone took a pepper imp, sucking the treat. More rounds passed, including Victoria and Anastasia being required to swap pepper imps – sans hands – and Jack having to remove my shirt off his brother, using only his teeth. Oliver was made to do a sexy little strip tease, and Cameron was made to kiss each member of the opposing gender.

Rory was the first to back out of anything, removing his shirt for refusing to tell us what his deepest fantasy is, claiming – with a wink – that certain things should not be put on young ears. So we all pestered him about who was considered 'too young' but he refused, promising to do a dare thrown his way instead.

"Right now?" Anastasia asked, for she had the king.

"Right now." He agreed, watching her think it over.

"Okay, I dare you to play chicken with number three. You know, run your hand up their thigh, til they tell you to stop."

He nodded, as everyone checked his or her number.

Mine bore the fateful 3.

Jack and Neal began to laugh as the shirtless Rory crawled over to my position, settling himself in between my ankles, staring into my eyes.

I felt his hand on my ankle, and noticed his eyes were a chocolaty brown.

His hand slid up my calf slowly to the inside of my knee. I noticed it was warm.

I was sure that the temperature of the room had risen a few degrees, as his hand started sensually moving up my thigh.

He got about half way up before I grinned, and started laughing. "Stop, stop!" I giggled, unable to remain serious, and worried that I wasn't that 'chicken' enough. The others were laughing too, but I did notice that Draco didn't look too entertained by the dare.

Draco was the next number to be called, and was given the truth Rory had turned down: spilling his deepest fantasy for us all to hear.

"Imagine not being able to see." He began. "All you can see is darkness, which heightens your every other sense. How you can hear the other moving around, how you can feel their every touch against your bare skin making you shiver with energy born from desire, how you trust this person enough to give up your sight and let them have that power. Maybe even going as far as to be restrained, just loosely. You can't move, you can't see, and the other can do whatever they'd like. That power exchange, between the one on top and the one submitting, though voluntarily."

"You'd like to be restrained?" Pansy sounded confused, sounding out each word carefully.

"No." Draco looked around the others, making eye contact with me. I shivered, I'll admit, with the desire he mentioned. "I'd like to be the one on top, the one with the power," he continued quietly. "I would be the one with the power given willingly and even eagerly to me by the person who trusts me enough to remove their sight, their freedom of movement, their freedom of will, even. I'd like to be the one to give pleasure for the one in my care, so that I'd be the only one in the world that matters, that can give her what she needs."

"Oh, Draco, that's so deep." Daphne simpered, Victoria adding in her own little 'mm mm' noise, and I noticed even some of the boys looked a bit flustered from his description. Those made me feel a bit better about my blushing face. I didn't trust my tongue to voice an agreement with him, nodding slowly instead.

A heady silence followed, as the bag got passed around again. Oliver drew king, and I chose dare, not about to spill any such fantasies of mine. What was my deepest fantasy, anyway? I didn't really have a sexual fantasy, now that I focused on it.

"… Amy, I dare you to kiss number nine. Timed, for a minute and a half. Nice and deep now." He grinned evilly.

"Kiss number nine, for ninety seconds." I agreed, looking around. Draco began to smirk, showing me the number nine.

"A minute and a half is ages for us watching, Oliver, how about you give out another truth or dare in the meantime?" Anastasia suggested. I thought that seemed like a good idea, as I shifted over to Draco. Blaise winked at me, and gestured he'd time, and I dimly heard Pansy start talking, probably had gotten a truth from Oliver already.

Draco was still smirking at me, not arrogantly though, but like he'd won something. He pulled me across from next to him onto his lap, beginning the kiss. He wrapped his arms around me, and I shifted so I was straddling his legs, rather than twisting to kiss him. Pansy's shrill voice faded as his large, warm hands slid up the skin of my back, underneath Neal's shirt, and my own hands tangled in his hair, deepening the kiss. Eyes closed, we moved together, tilting our faces and bodies to make the kiss easier, and more passionate. Distantly, I heard the others laughing, and he bubble of passion around Draco and I tremble. A hand tapped my shoulder, and I pulled back, turning to face a grinning Rory who was offering me a hand up. I took the hand, standing shakily smiling in response.

"We made time?" Draco asked, sounding as if he'd done nothing more exciting than take a stroll. Laughter sounded around the group again.

"You made time alright." Blaise replied, laughing. "We were kind of debating on whether or not you guys were going to come up for air or anything tonight, or if we'd have to pry you apart before you suffocated."

"Ever heard of a nose?" Draco retorted, grabbing the hand that was not being held by Rory and tugging me down to recline next to him. I obliged, smiling around the group as Blaise scooted over to accommodate me, not by enough that I wasn't resting against either guy, I noted.

By the time we stopped, I was pretty sure only Jack and Neal had not kissed each other, and each of us had at least one item of clothing discarded. Everyone had sort of migrated into a pile of blankets, pillows, bodies and warmth, and we agreed just to sleep here – there were too many of us to 'allow indecent activities' as Rory (who admitted to being the oldest, and therefore _obliged_ to chaperone us) put it.

Which is how I found myself in the Slytherin common room, curled up between Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini, surrounded by friends, blankets and pillows. It was a sleepover, Anastasia said with a laugh, not that I thought I'd ever have a sleepover that compared.


	14. Chapter 14: Dreams of Home

**A/N: Hello, lovely readers! I have a dilemma.**

**You see, I have written this story for you people for about five years now. And fast approaching is the moment I have dreamed of for those five years. Would you all want to see me continue this for the fifth, sixth and possibly seventh books?**

**As I said, the moment we have all been waiting for is approaching, which sadly, also heralds the ending of this book. Please review and tell me what you think I should do.**

* * *

Easter holidays finished without much else happening, and the start of the summer term began with clear skies and warm weather.

In the last week of May, the champions were told what their final task would be, which of course spread faster than wildfire around the school.

They had to find their way through a maze, filled with spells, monsters, and who knows what else. Harry relaxed. The school relaxed. A maze? No biggie.

I still couldn't relax. Something bad was going to happen – I knew it. I didn't know where, or when, or even how, so all I could do was fret as June began.

The stunning weather outside made divination all the worse, however, and I didn't blame Harry for dozing off near a cracked window, as Professor Trelawney droned on about the placement of Mars. Harry didn't appear to sleep long or well, however, when he fell off his chair, clutching his scar. Everyone looked around, staring wide-eyed at my brother. Even Ron looked a bit worried.

"Harry! Harry!" Ron had moved forward, shaking his friend. After a moment of shock I leaped forward too, helping my now conscious brother sit.

"Are you alright?" I asked him.

"Of course he isn't!" I had never seen Professor Trelawney this excited. "What was it? A vision? A premonition? What did you see?"

He looked bewildered, and awfully young, as shaking, he recoiled from the Professor leaning so close. "Nothing, I didn't see anything." He replied after a moment's hesitation.

"My dear boy, you were clutching your scar! I have experience in these matters!"

"I want to go to the hospital wing." He muttered, and I helped him stand, supporting him.

"You were undoubtedly stimulated by clairvoyant vibrations! If you leave now you may lose the opportunity!" Professor Trelawney seemed distraught at the thought of the chance being lost.

"I don't want to see anything except a headache cure." He snapped, removing his arm from my support and storming from the classroom. I fell into the seat he had just vacated, stressing even more.

* * *

Later that night, I was sitting with Harry, Ron and Hermione in the common room, listening to the tale Harry was spinning; the dream he'd had in Divination, followed by his experience in Dumbledore's office.

"Dumbledore reckons You-Know-Who is getting stronger again?" Ron whispered, after Harry's tale. "And he trusts Snape? He really trusts Snape even though he knows he was a Death Eater?"

"Rita Skeeter." Hermione began. I wasn't worried about her. Professor Snape was a Death Eater? Sure, Karkaroff had gone to show him the Mark, but was that because Dumbledore shouldn't trust Snape? Maybe not, for as far as I knew, Professor Snape kept my secrets, which could be potentially disastrous to Professor Dumbledore and the school in general. My head swam at this thought. Was I a liability to Hogwarts?

And Harry's dream disturbed me. He described flying into the dark manor, and the fireplace in detail. How the Dark Lord was sitting in the high backed chair, and Wormtail cowering in front of him.

He described where I lived. I could see in my memory, what he had seen in his dream, and silently, I shook.

"We haven't done any practicing!" Hermione leapt to her feet, disturbing my thought train. Just as well, I didn't see that particular trip heading anywhere productive, or peaceful.

"Come on, Harry, we'll just have to work really hard on it tomorrow. You need to get some sleep."

* * *

Exam study began to take over my time, and I ended up studying with my Slytherin group more than not, as Ron and Hermione were assisting Harry with jinxes and hexes and Merlin knows what else. Excitement was buzzing through the air though, more than pre-exam tension, and even some of the teachers weren't really pushing study habits as they normally did.

It was a week or so into June when I was in the library with Draco and Blaise, when Professor McGonagall swept in, looking flustered.

"Amy, Amy, oh there you are. Come with me."

Confused, I grabbed my books, slinging my bag over my shoulder and following her out of the library.

"An urgent owl has arrived." She explained to me as she led me towards the Entrance Hall. "Amy, it's from your caregivers. A disaster, and you are required to return home immediately."

I stopped dead at the top of the stairs, staring down at my bags in the entrance hall, Cali's cage, and Mr Malfoy.

"What?" I said blankly, mind not processing the scene before me.

"Mr Malfoy is here to escort you home." Professor McGonagall explained, a disapproving note in her voice.

"No…" I said dizzily, turning to face her. "But, Professor, the third task is only weeks away, and Harry… what about exams? What…"

She frowned. "You will have to be excused from exams, but the owl did say it was urgent. I'm sorry, you're going to have to miss the third task as well."

"Come now, Amy." Mr Malfoys cold voice cut through my jumbled thoughts. "Don't waste time."

I stumbled down the stairs. I had to leave Hogwarts, leave my brother, as he was about to partake in a dangerous task. Woodenly, I picked up Cali and my suitcase, Spark landing on my shoulder.

'_We're leaving?_' he seemed confused, and I didn't blame him.

I followed Mr Malfoy down to the gate, looking back at the castle far behind me. He grasped my arm, and I flinched, before I realised he intended to disapparate, and made sure I had everything held close.

Not a moment later, I was standing on the landing outside the door, standing alone in the darkness and dust, and hearing the conversation within.


	15. Chapter 15: Darkness and Dust

"Ah, Amy. Welcome home." The cruel voice floated through the open door. "Why don't you come in?"

Unsure whether to be scared, or angry, I stepped into the room, with its fireplace, high backed chair and large rug, which Nagini was curled upon like a dog. The scene so recently described to me by my very own brother. _Home_. I set Cali's cage and my trunk down, staring towards the source of the voice.

"You may be wondering why we have called you home in school term." He continued silkily. "You may be angry that you won't get to see your brother, Harry Potter compete in the third task."

I shifted uneasily, as he nailed the point on the head.

"Never fear, Amy. You will see your brother complete the third task. You see it is my influence at Hogwarts that got him into the Triwizard Tournament. My influence that he has been so successful in the challenges he faces. It has been my influence ensuring that he will reach the Triwizard Cup at the end of the maze.

Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived. The famous, celebrated, Harry Potter will be key in my return. And he shall die."

I trembled with suppressed sobs, refusing to utter a sound.

"And you, my dear girl, will be instrumental in my plans beyond that. The morale of the wizarding world will crumble, and it shall be mine." He hissed coldly. "The very children that brought me down shall support my rule, and the world will become mine.

"But we cannot have you ruining my plans now, I have assured this since the moment you knew you were a witch."

I cried out as the Mark on my arm began to burn hot, before biting my lip for silence.

"You are mine, Amy Potter, and you cannot betray me."

Wormtail stepped forward, wand raised. "Avada Kedavra!"

I screamed as the burning green light encompassed Cali, and she fell limply to the floor of her cage. I saw Wormtail raise his wand to Spark.

"NO!" I screamed, pulling him off my shoulder, and to my chest. He was burning hot with fear, but I curled around him anyway, sobbing. "No! Spark can't contact anyone else, please. I won't send him with a message, I won't. I won't betray you." I shuddered with the implications of their plans, with the web I was caught in. Spark's wings were burning my chest, and his claws biting into my arm, but I couldn't let them take Spark away from me.

"Wormtail." He barked.

Wormtail flinched, cowering once again. "Yes, my Lord?"

"Leave the lizard for now. Take her to her room."

"Yes my Lord. At once." Wormtail quivered, grasping my arm and pulling me towards the room I'd been allowed.

"You will swear such, Amy." I heard Him whisper to Himself, or Nagini, perhaps. "You will swear such fealty to me, and be mine."

With a shove from the ratty man behind me, I fell onto the wooden floor in my room, bruising my knees, before I heard the lock click behind me. Only then did I allow the sobs to come.


	16. Chapter 16: It's Your Sister Again

**Harry's POV**

It was a week before the third task when Professor McGonagall requested Hermione, Ron and I come see her in her office. When we got there, I was a bit surprised to see Malfoy and another Slytherin there as well.

"Ah, Potter, Granger, Weasley. It's about your sister again, Potter."

I turned to glare at Malfoy, who didn't look surprised at this news. He glanced at me disdainfully before looking back at McGonagall though. She nodded at him and the Slytherin.

"You two know I had to fetch her, an urgent owl came from her home, and requested her presence immediately. Mr Malfoy came to collect her, and she will not be returning this term."

"She'll miss the third task then, won't she?" Hermione frowned. McGonagall nodded and I felt my heart sink. I'd hoped she would have been there to see it; she was my only family and all. The Weasleys were staying, however, so I didn't worry too much. After all, I'd see her after the summer holidays. I nodded, and McGonagall dismissed us. I turned to leave, and saw Malfoy frowning though.

"Did the owl say what kind of disaster, Professor?" He asked McGonagall. She looked down her nose at him.

"No, Malfoy, and it was hardly my place to pry into her home life. She looked pretty upset at the news of a disaster though."

"Who wouldn't?" Ron muttered as we left her office. "Doesn't she live with Malfoy? If it was a disaster, why didn't it concern him?"

"She doesn't live with Malfoy, Ron." Hermione reminded him exasperatedly. "She just visits there over summer. We never did find out where she lives. What kind of disaster? It couldn't be the death of a relative or anything, sorry Harry."

I shrugged. "I just wish she were here to see the Tournament."

**Amy's POV**

I don't know how much time had passed, probably a little while for Wormtail had come to give me food several times, before I was collected. He'd taken me out into the main room, and given me large sweeping robes to wear, and some sort of mask.

The mask I was sure I'd seen at the Quidditch World Cup.

Wormtail had led me out of the manor, over to the graveyard outside of town. The sun was setting, bathing the grey headstones in a bloody red light. I did not think the state of the graveyard was going to improve as the sun disappeared.

Underneath my robes, looped around my waist, Spark quivered in the evening air. He had been rather silent, and withdrawn, since his brush with death, and I was happy to leave him alone.

I wanted to be anywhere but here.

Possibly an hour, or more passed, before there was a flash of light and some thuds further off into the darkness. I heard voices speaking, and soft footsteps carrying on the still night air. Gesturing curtly, Wormtail began to move forward and I followed.

There were two people there, I couldn't quite make them out in the gloom, but could see two figures, one tall, one short.

Without warning, the short figure collapsed, his hands to his face, crying out in pain, as the blanketed bundle that Wormtail carried spoke.

"Kill the spare."

With as much thought as he'd given my owl, Wormtail obeyed, and helplessly, I watched the taller figure fall to the ground. Dead.

Wormtail handed me the grotesque bundle, which I held with unease, as he pulled the other figure, which I knew with a dread certainty in my stomach, to his feet, dragging him towards a marble headstone. I watched as Wormtail tied my brother securely, hitting him as he struggled.

"You!" I heard him gasp desperately.

Wormtail hurried off leaving me standing in front of my brother, holding a swathed creature, and trembling. I couldn't speak; I couldn't let him know of how much I was betraying him, of how I was bound as tight as him to the monstrosities sharing the graveyard with us.

I could feel his eyes on me, unknowingly, hating me for what I had to be.

**Harry's POV**

Wormtail returned dragging a cauldron filled with liquid, bigger than any cauldron I'd ever used. And the Death Eater still stood there still, watching me, and holding the dreadful bundle.

As the liquid began to spark, the thing spoke again, it's high voice piercing through the hiss and the bubble and the steam of the cauldron.

Wormtail opened the bundle, to reveal a disgusting creature, a monster that looked as if it had never seen the sun, slimy and blind, and crouched like a human child. I saw it's hairy, scaled body and red eyes and Wormtail brought it closer, letting it slide into the cauldron with a hiss.

Wormtail began speaking, in a shaking voice; reciting an incantation so old I felt my bones quiver. I shut my eyes against to horrors, unable to bear opening them as I heard Wormtail's scream, as I felt a knife pierce my arm, and heard Wormtail's ragged breath inches from my face.

White light from the sickening potion before me burned through my lids.

_Please let it have gone wrong._

_Please let it have drowned._

A hiss forced me to open my eyes, at the blank white landscape of mist. And through the mist I saw a skeletal man rise from the cauldron.

Icy cold terror surged through my limbs, as the voice I'd heard pierced the night air once more.

"Robe me."

And I stared into the white face that had haunted my nightmares.

Lord Voldemort had risen again.


	17. Chapter 17: Risen

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

I watched him rise from the remains of the cauldron, appearing out of the steam. I watched Wormtail cut off his own hand, cut my brother open to this end.

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

And I had stood there and watched. Trembling. Scared. But what could I have done?

He turned away from Harry, looking towards Wormtail and I, slipping an unnaturally long fingered hand into his pocket, withdrawing a pale wand.

He pointed this at Wormtail, lifting him effortlessly from the ground, and throwing him against a nearby headstone, which he lay beneath, crumpled and crying.

Smiling mirthlessly at me, he stepped forward.

"Your arm, my dear." He said quietly, his voice piercing throughout the area. Reaching out, I bared my left arm, unable to look at the black disfiguration that marked me. I felt Harry's eyes on the burning black mark, his disgust, and his fear.

I heard him howl as one long spindly finger pressed against my arm, sending a searing pain through my body.

The Dark Lord turned, pulling me with him so he could stare at Harry and I together.

"How many will be brave enough to return when the feel it?" He whispered to the stars. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?

"You of course, have been loyal, my girl, and I reward loyalty."

Wormtail's sobbing increased in volume.

"You stand, Harry Potter, among the remains of my father." He began. "A muggle, and a fool, very like your own mother. Each has had their use, however…"

He laughed and talked more, about his father and his mother, pacing all the while.

"But listen! I am growing quite sentimental. However, my true family returns now.

A rushing sound filled the air, and several, robed and hooded as myself appeared.

I saw Harry look around at the gathering crowd, at the perspective he suddenly had. I saw him frown.

"Welcome, Death Eaters." Voldemort announced quietly into the rushing silence. "Thirteen years … thirteen years since we last met. Yet you answer my call as if it were only yesterday." He turned back to my brother.

"Yes. This is my family, Harry Potter. What of yours?" he taunted, pulling me forwards with him, so that we stood directly beneath the stone he was bound to.

"That's right." The Dark Lord hissed. "I killed your father. I killed your mother." He gestured at the Death Eaters around us, before pulling the gag from Harry's mouth. "My family killed yours. All of yours except you and your precious sister."

"Don't you dare!" Harry warned. "Leave my sister out of this."

But this had been what Voldemort had wanted. He threw back his head, laughing, his hand moving up to grasp my mask.

"Don't you see, Harry Potter? There is no version of this, where you can protect your sister."

He pulled my mask off, tilting my chin up to my brother's face with thin, cold fingers. So that I couldn't look away. So that I could see the horror on my beloved brother's face as mine was revealed. So I could see his eyes travel from my face to the black Mark down my arm.

His mouth moved, but no sound emerged this time. Voldemort was still laughing, and I tore my face away from his hand, unable to watch anymore. Raising his arm, he shoved me towards the circle of Death Eaters standing around him, to go sprawling at the feet of the jeering adults.

"She is _mine_,Harry Potter." He was gloating. "And what marvellous work she has done."

I could feel Harry still staring at me as I rose to my feet, taking my place in the circle.

"She has done marvellous work." He continued, turning back to the circle. "Though what have you done? A powerful group of wizards you are, and none of you came to my aid."

"I returned." Wormtail stood shakily.

"Not from loyalty." The Dark Lord sneered. "But you have done excellent work, Wormtail. And Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers…" he raised his wand, creating a hand that looked as if it were made of pure silver, attaching itself to the stump of Wormtail's arm.

"Thank you my Lord … thank you, it's beautiful, Master…" Wormtail fell to his knees, scrambling forward to kiss the hem of his Lord's robes.

"One other shall be rewarded after tonight. A faithful servant, at Hogwarts, through his efforts our young friend is here tonight… yes. Harry Potter has kindly joined us for my re-birthing party."

My heart felt heavy as lead as I realised. A Death Eater at Hogwarts? Karkaroff? He was scared though, I recounted. Which meant … Snape? Disappointment burned through me.

"My Lord, how … this miracle …" The Death Eater beside me, Lucius Malfoy spoke.

"Ah, what a story it is, Lucius. And it all begins, and ends, with out guest here." Voldemort began, recounting his tale. "– And here he is; the boy you all believed had been my downfall."

"_Crucio!_" Voldemort whispered, his wand on Harry. I saw him writhing, screaming in pain, and remembered Professor Moody, showing us the Unforgivable Curses in class, at the beginning of the year. I remember hating him, and suspicion began to form deep in my brain. I forced my brain to focus on the present, not to retreat to the pleasantries of the past. But who could have anticipated we'd end here?


End file.
